To the Parent's Surprise
by Storiest
Summary: If Marisol had survived it would have changed everything that followed. Here is a story to follow up on the "I've never had a baby," comment. You really need to read "To Their Surprise" to follow this story.
1. Chapter 1

This is an story "insert" if you will. You need to read "To Their Surprise" to understand the events. But basically, Marisol survives, and that alters all that follows. I guess this will be part of a "Surprised" universe, as I have other stories planned, usually one-shots, of what would have happened between Horatio and Marisol, if she had lived. This portion is complete, and I'll post chapters frequently, depending on reviews/reactions. Fluff, action, and introspection.

* * *

Marisol Caine sighed as she turned in front of the mirror. She knew intellectually that she was 8 months pregnant, not fat. But she felt like she looked enormous, especially if she turned sidewise. Horatio kept reassuring her that she looked marvelous, glowing, beautiful, amazing. He never seemed to run out of adjectives. And she was tall, so that she carried a lot of the baby inside, but still.

"Sweetheart, are you ready?" called Horatio. "We're supposed to be at your mom's in 45 minutes, and traffic looks bearish." Horatio came around the corner, and caught Marisol in front of the mirror. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her protruding belly. He nuzzled under her ear and whispered. "You're gorgeous, you know that don't you?"

Marisol huffed and leaned back against Horatio's tall frame. "How do you do that?" she asked. He flashed her his quick grin in the mirror but made no answer. She rolled her eyes. She knew he was a quick study of human behavior, he probably knew what she was going to feel before she did. Sometimes she could almost feel annoyed, but he was careful not to flaunt it.

* * *

Carmen Delko was standing in her living room, blatantly hiding from the chaos in her kitchen and back yard. Pavel and Eric were horsing around with one of her son's-in-law and her granddaughter, while one of her daughters was working in the kitchen. She was watching out the window, waiting for Marisol and the man she had married. She sighed, she really needed to reconcile herself to the fact that Horatio was a decent man. But, it still rankled that Marisol had married him without telling her parents. And then he had whisked her away and placed her in hiding. The ensuing month had been terrifying. Both Eric and Marisol had disappeared.

It had ended well, Eric and Marisol had both reappeared. Eric showed up first, obviously exhausted but quietly triumphant. He reassured her that Marisol was safe, and would return soon. The following week Marisol had appeared on the doorstep, with Horatio in tow. She would never forget the ensuing evening!

Carmen opened the door and was overjoyed to see Marisol on the porch. She saw the Horatio behind her, but she was totally focused on Marisol. She grabbed her in a fierce embrace. "Mari," she exclaimed, pulling her into the house. "Pavel! Mari's back!" she yelled into the interior of the house. Horatio quietly followed them inside

"Mari, where have you been?" Carmen asked. "Your father and I've been worried sick. Chica, what happened?"

Marisol looked back at Horatio. They both knew that the next hour was going to be full of revelations and emotion. She hoped Horatio was up for it! He stepped up alongside her.

"Mrs. Delko, why don't we sit down, and I'll explain," inserted Horatio. "Is Mr. Delko around? Perhaps he could join us?" At that moment Pavel Delko burst into the room.

"Marisol! Thank God you're safe," exclaimed her father. He wrapped her up in a bear hug, then held her at arm's length. "Wherever you've been, you look well. You look really well," he said, eyeing her closely.

"Mami, Papi, you know that Horatio and I have been dating awhile," began Marisol. They all sat, Carmen and Pavel in their respective chairs, Horatio and Marisol on the couch. Her parents nodded. And of course, they knew a lot about Horatio from Eric. It had eased their concerns when they first heard about Mari's new "boyfriend". Eric had always had high praise for his boss, so they had just watched and waited.

Now Horatio stepped into the conversation. "Mr. and Mrs. Delko, you know that Eric and I have dangerous jobs," he began. "Last fall I found out that the Mala Noche had put out a contract on my life."

At this news Carmen flinched, and Pavel gave a low hiss. Carmen wanted to put her arms protectively around Marisol, and she wondered at how she had been maneuvered into sitting so far away from her. She realized suddenly that Marisol was aligning herself with Horatio. She filed that away for future reflection.

"For the past few months I've been very careful, not to appear in public too often with Marisol," Horatio continued. "We never go to the same place twice, and I never take the same route to her place." Pavel listened closely, and nodded in approval. Raised in Russia he could understand what Horatio had done.

"Now we come to more recent events," said Horatio. "Marisol, why don't you tell them the next bit."

Marisol smiled at Horatio, and turned to her parents. "Mami, Papi, I found out last month, right before I went away, that I'm in remission. I'm not cured, but for now I'm free of symptoms."

Carmen squealed joyfully, and leaped up. She crossed to Marisol and hugged her. "Praise God!" she exclaimed. "I'll light a candle in church tomorrow!"

Pavel crossed himself, and said a silent prayer of thanksgiving. His eyes shone with happiness for his daughter. But he knew there was more to this story. Horatio moved from the couch to Carmen's chair, which allowed Carmen to sit with her daughter and hold onto her. Pavel watched Horatio watch the women, a very faint smile resting on his lips.

"Now, tell us, daughter, why did you have to go away?" asked Pavel. "Did it have to do with this gang?"

Horatio again took up the narrative. "The day after Marisol found out about the remission the Mala Noche made an attempt on her and Eric's lives. They knew that I consider them family, and they were attempting to break me. They failed, thanks to Eric's quick thinking, and the heroic sacrifice of one of Miami's police officers."

Carmen now felt like she was on an emotional rollercoaster. First her missing daughter turns up, tells her that her boyfriend is in deadly danger, then that she was in remission from leukemia, and then that an evil crime organization was trying to kill her. Her spinning head and heart were the only thing keeping her from exploding on the spot.

Horatio watched her sympathetically, but he accurately had figured that any real threat would come from Pavel. Marisol's father had become icily still. He would wait, Horatio knew, till he had all the information he needed to decide what to do with him.

"I sent Marisol to a friend, in New York. He kept her safe there, while Eric and I tracked down the man who had ordered the attack," continued Horatio. Now he looked directly at Pavel. "Eventually we went to Brazil, and tracked him down, and his boss. Neither of these men will ever leave Brazil again."

Horatio saw the tight nod of understanding and approval from Pavel. He knew that he had been understood. Carmen, no stranger to the world of dangerous men, from her youth in Cuba, also understood. This was another one of those things to ponder later.

"With the help of some federal agents we've eliminated the Mala Noche from Miami, so that threat's ended," finished Horatio.

"Thank you, Horatio, for returning her safe to us and restoring order to our community," replied Carmen. Pavel nodded affirmation. "And now, what? I can see there is more."

Horatio flashed one of those rare smiles, as he realized that Eric had received some of his observational skills from his mother, for all her emotional Latin demeanor.

"Mami, I'm thirsty. Can we go to the kitchen, and make up a pitcher of something?" asked Marisol, standing and drawing her mother up with her. Horatio had asked her to give him a little time alone with her father, and this seemed a good moment.

Internally, Pavel laughed. He could see that Horatio and Marisol were carefully orchestrating the evening. First the alternating good and bad news, now this little subterfuge to allow Horatio some time alone with the girl's father. He had a feeling he knew what was coming. His Russian sense of humor came to the fore. Externally, he let his face fall into a faint glower.

The women left the room, and Horatio came to the corner of the couch nearest Pavel's chair. Pavel took a close look at Horatio's face, and saw his firm resolve. He also realized that they were closer in age than he previously thought. Now his glower was not entirely fake, as he thought Marisol deserved only the best. She was young and beautiful, and he realized that Horatio must be close to 50 years old. Still it seemed as if Marisol had made a good choice, if all that Horatio had implied was true.

"Mr. Delko, I'm in love with Marisol," bluntly stated Horatio. "I have been for a while. I don't give my heart easily, but she has owned it since the first date. We thought we might only have a little time together, because of the leukemia and the Mala Noche, so we may have acted hastily. I can't ask for your permission, but I would like your blessing."

"What are you telling me, Horatio?" growled Pavel. ' _Oh,'_ he thought to himself _, 'this is too much fun_. _I just have to manage Carmen's reaction.'_

"We were married, the day before I had to send her to New York," admitted Horatio.

"Married? Married?" Pavel shouted. He leaped up and lapsed into Russian curses. But Horatio had been watching his eyes, and saw the twinkling humor there. Internally he relaxed and decided to let the situation play out according to Pavel's designs.

Carmen burst into the room, in response to the shouting. "What's going on, Pavel, speak English," she cried out. "What's happened?"

"This zopé has gone and married our daughter," shouted Pavel. "I will kill him, this dishonorable xuy!"

"What!?" exclaimed Carmen. "Marisol, is this true? And Pavel, stop swearing!"

"Yes, Mami, we were married last month," said Marisol firmly.

"Holy Mary, chica, what were you thinking," shrieked Carmen.

"I love him, Mami, Papi. And he loves me," proclaimed Marisol. Horatio was proud of her, she had dreaded this confrontation, but he had insisted, her family had a right to know. So, they had planned on how the evening would go, and Horatio had coached her a little. The only surprise was the knowledge that Pavel had figured it out. Horatio stepped up to Marisol, and took her hand.

"Mari, this man is almost 20 years older than you, it's indecent!" shouted Pavel. "He could be your father!" There, his one real concern was out. He stepped toward Horatio, hoping he was as quick as Pavel had figured.

Horatio stepped in front of Marisol, and said in a low voice, "You don't want to do this, Mr. Delko. Family means a lot to me, but Marisol means the world. Don't alienate her. We're married, it's done." Pavel saw the look in his eyes, and realized he was relieved that he liked Horatio, and wouldn't have to fight him over Marisol. Horatio obviously had no fear of him.

Carmen, thinking that the men were about to come to blows, suddenly became calm. "Pavel, let's sit down and talk this out. Mari, bring the sangria," she ordered. While her head was turned Pavel winked at Horatio. Horatio's trademark crinkle around the eyes was the only acknowledgement he got. But it was enough. The two men had come to an understanding, with barely a word spoken.

Carmen was not as resigned. She had been cheated of a wedding for her daughter. But she did want to keep peace in the family. She moaned and fretted a bit longer, enough to keep the men distracted. Some of her concern was soothed when Horatio showed her the picture of Marisol, Cardinal Benedetti and himself in the church. Horatio realized he had his work cut out for him when it came to charming his mother-in-law. He was, however, on a first name basis with his father-in-law by the end of the evening.

* * *

Carmen was reflecting on that evening when a new SUV pulled up in front of the house. It was a beautiful shade of blue, big enough to be safe, but not so large as to be difficult to park. Just as the driver hopped out and she realized that it was Horatio, Eric came into the room.

"Mami, are you hiding?" he teasingly asked. He followed her gaze. "Oh, good, H and Mari are here."

"Is that a new car?" she asked, watching as Horatio went around to the passenger side, and helped the very pregnant Marisol out. He gave her a quick hug.

"Yeah, he wanted Mari to have a car she could get in and out of easily, without having to bend so much. It's better for her back, and will be great when the baby comes," he answered.

"He really does cherish her, doesn't she?" mused Carmen.

"Mami, he worships her," said Eric. "It's kind of scary sometimes."

At that moment Marisol tapped on the door and came inside. The short walk had winded her, mostly due to the early summer heat and humidity.

"Marisol, Horatio," welcomed Carmen. "Come in, out of the heat. Praise the Lord for air conditioning. Come in, Mari, sit." Marisol and Horatio both noted that she had used his name, which was rare. Perhaps she was thawing a bit.

"How are you feeling, hija?" asked Carmen. Marisol had sat down and assumed the classic pose of a very pregnant woman, with her head resting on the back of the chair and her right hand gently rubbing her abdomen. Carmen covered Marisol's hand with one of her own, just as the baby athletically kicked. "Guau!, the little one is lively!" she exclaimed.

"I'm a little tired, Mami, but I feel fine," replied Marisol. "Only a month to go."

"We can hope so, Mari, but first babies tend to come late," admonished Carmen.

"Oh, Mami, don't say that!" exclaimed Marisol.

Eric and Horatio exchanged a glance, and started to edge out of the room. They could face down criminals, terrorists, and any variety of guns, but two Delko women in the same room was more than they wanted to take on.

"Hey, Sis, do you want a drink?" asked Eric. He started toward the kitchen. "And you, Mami, do you have a drink yet?"

"Yeah, Eric, a glass of ice water would be great," replied Marisol.

"Yes, I left it on the kitchen table, Eric," answered Carmen. She turned to Horatio. "Horatio, why don't you slip out of that jacket. It's too hot a day to wear it. Pavel and Nicky are out on the patio, go say 'Hello'".

To Marisol's surprise Horatio immediately complied, slipping the jacket off, and handing it to Carmen. "Yes, ma'am," he said, and stepped toward the back of the house.

Carmen watched him go. Marisol interjected, "Mami, that's amazing, you got him to take off his coat. It's like his armor, he must be really relaxing here."

Eric came back in with their drinks. "Here you go, Mami, Marisol. I'm going out back with H and the boys. That's amazing, how did you get his coat off?" said Eric. He wandered off toward the back of the house.

"Why is it so unusual that he took his coat off?" asked Carmen. "It must be 85 degrees, and humid out. Why would he wear a jacket?"

"Sit down, Mami," started Marisol. "I can explain a little." Carmen sat on the couch near Marisol. She and Horatio had discussed how much she could tell her family. "Horatio had a very difficult childhood. His father was an abusive alcoholic and mistreated his mother."

"Ahh, that is hard," exclaimed Carmen. "That explains why he never drinks."

"Yes, that's it," continued Marisol. "He might take a little wine at home, but he never drinks now, because the baby might come at any time. He doesn't want the least bit of alcohol in his system when he might have to drive at any moment."

"He takes good care of you," stated Carmen.

"Mami, I feel like a princess," said Marisol. "And his past is why he is so polite to all women, even sometimes potential suspects. Do you notice he calls you "Ma'am"? He calls all women that, even Calleigh and Alexx, whom he has known for years."

"He is a caballero, a gentleman," replied Carmen. "But what does that have to do with the coat?"

"Ah, the coat," said Marisol. "The coat is like his armor, Mami. It is a barrier between him and the world. It means he has really relaxed here, that he took it off. And of course, he is very fair skinned, he has to protect his skin from the sun."

"I've been a little hard on him, haven't I?" sadly said Carmen. "I felt like he had stolen you away, at first. I'll be nicer to him, Mari, I promise."

"Thanks, Mami," replied Marisol. "He really is a great man. But don't go on about it, he doesn't like being the focus of too much attention."


	2. Chapter 2

This is a short chapter. But it has some action in it.

* * *

As Marisol's due date approached Horatio experienced an increasing level of anxiety. Most of this he put down to approaching fatherhood, and concern for Marisol's health. But he was not one to leave much to chance.

And he noticed that his team seemed to be feeling the same. He realized that none of the call outs he was responding to were far from the lab or from home. He wondered how Eric and Calleigh were orchestrating this sudden downturn in the need for him to be in far flung corners of the county, but decided he would accept it as long as the solve rate didn't drop. Then, when Marisol's due date was only a week off, he took a paternity leave, using years of stored up vacation time. He would teleconference if he was needed, but he wanted to stay close to home.

The next morning, very early, Horatio's eyes snapped open. He had a second to wonder why he was awake in the pre-dawn darkness, and then his phone buzzed again. He snatched up, lest it wake Marisol, who at 8 months and 3 weeks pregnant found sleep a precious commodity. He saw Eric's name on the screen.

"Horatio, here" he answered.

"H, I'm sorry to bug you," replied Eric, his voice sounding strained. "Is Mari alright?"

"Yes, Eric, she's asleep, right here," replied Horatio. A sense of unease settled on him. "Why do you ask?"

Marisol interjected, "Not anymore!"

"What's happened, Eric?" asked Horatio, getting up and moving toward the door of their room.

"We had a body drop, and Calleigh and I are at the crime scene. The vic, H, she…looks a lot like Mari, even down to the clothes." responded Eric. "I just had to check, you know?"

Horatio ran his hand over his face, and shook out the cobwebs of sleep. "I understand, Eric. Do me a favor, send me a picture, would you? I'll be at the lab shortly."

Marisol groaned, even as Eric said, "On its way, H." Horatio snapped the phone shut and went back to the bed.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, it looks like I might have to go in for a while," said Horatio, apologetically. "Do you think your mom can come over and stay with you for a while?" His phone vibrated, and he looked down at the image on the screen. Eric was right, the victim resembled Marisol disturbingly. He knew he had seen that halter top on Marisol months ago. Sleep evaporated, and instantly Horatio was completely awake and alert.

"She was coming by at about 8 anyway, Horatio," mumbled Marisol sleepily. "What is it?" she asked. Technically Horatio was on leave, and only an unusual circumstance should draw him from the house.

"It looks like a strange case," he equivocated. "Eric wants me to take a look." In her current state he didn't want to distress her, so he refrained from mentioning any details. He went to the closet and dressed, adding one extra thing to his usual wardrobe.

At that moment, his phone vibrated again. He glanced down at the screen. It was Natalia. With a sense of foreboding he answered. "Yes, Natalia?"

"Horatio, we have an odd case here. I was called to a body drop. The victim, Horatio, she looks a lot like Marisol. I swear I've seen her wear the dress the victim has on, back before she was expecting," answered Natalia. She was working alone, as Ryan was technically fired, a situation that Horatio regretted, but he needed to be able to trust his CSI's, and Ryan had lied to his face. It would take a lot to get Horatio to allow him back on the team.

"Send me a picture, Natalia, right now," insisted Horatio, every instinct firing off.

"Ok, Horatio, but I'm sure it's just a coincidence," Natalia tried to sound reassuring.

"Not when it is the second body in ten minutes," snapped Horatio. "I'll see you at the lab!"

He turned to the bed, dreading what he had to do. "Sweetheart, you need to wake up." Waking a sleepy Marisol was not easy. He sat down next to her and stroked her arm. "I'm sorry, Marisol, but you're going to have to wake up and get dressed. I need you to come with me."

His phone buzzed and he looked at another image of a young, dark haired woman, wearing a white halter dress, eerily reminiscent of the dress Marisol had worn to the justice of the peace, the day they had married.

"Now, Mari," insisted Horatio in a tone of command Marisol had never heard, but knew instinctively to obey. She clambered from the bed and headed straight to the restroom.

"What's happening?" she asked groggily.

"There have been a couple of disturbing cases, and I want to you awake," he answered. "Get dressed, and I'll make you a cup of tea." He turned to the closet and dressed quickly, adding one thing to his usual wardrobe. He went to the kitchen and put water on for tea and coffee. Then he made a couple of phone calls.

"Jessop, here," answered officer Jessop. "It's early, Lieutenant, what's up?"

"Jessop, I need you at my place, as soon as possible. We may need to put the backup plan into play," responded Horatio.

"Asap, LT," responded Jessop. "I'll be there." Horatio had asked Jessop a month previously if he would be willing to be a body guard, if needed, for Marisol. The past months had been ordinary business for the Crime Scene Lab, but Horatio, on guard after the first attempt on Marisol's life, was leaving nothing to chance.

Then Horatio made a call he had hoped he wouldn't have to make, but that he had prepared for nonetheless.

"Hernandez," answered the groggy voice. "Lieutenant, I hope you have a good reason for waking me."

"Captain," replied Horatio. "I'm afraid that event we discussed a few weeks back looks like it is taking place. We have two victims, and I am on my way to the lab, with my wife, in the next few minutes."

"Damn, Caine," gruffly replied his superior. "I'm sorry this is happening. What can I do to help?"

"If you could release Officer Jessop and Detective Tripp from other duty, sir, that would be extremely helpful," said Horatio.

"They're yours for the duration," answered the Captain. "I'll be at Central, if you need me."

"Thank you, sir," responded Horatio. He hung up the phone, and finished preparing Mari's tea. He got his weapon and badge from his gun safe and clipped them to his belt. He turned and found Marisol waiting, dressed in comfortable but serviceable clothes, hair tied back and light makeup on.

"What's going on, Horatio?" she asked. Horatio knew he would have to explain something to her, but disliked upsetting her. He uncharacteristically hesitated.

"Ok, now I'm worried," she said. "Just tell me."

"Marisol, two women were murdered, and dressed to look like you," answered Horatio. He stepped over to her and put his hands on her shoulders. "I have to assume it is some sort of attack on us. We're going to the Lab, with Officer Jessop riding shotgun. Bring something to do, as I don't know how long you'll be there."

"Oh, Horatio, that's awful," she stammered. "How, how were they killed? What makes you think they look like me?"

"We don't know much yet, but they were both wearing clothing similar to yours. I am not leaving you here," said Horatio. "Get your go bag, too."

While Marisol got her things, Horatio checked the front yard and then the cameras he had in front of the garage and at the side of the house. He was alarmed to see a car blocking the end of the drive. He ran back to the master bedroom and grabbed Marisol by the arm.

"Come on, Mari, we're out of time," he said, propelling her toward the rear of the master closet.

"Wait, what," asked Marisol. When she saw where he was pushing her to, she began to protest. "No, Horatio, not the panic room!"

"Yes, you know the drill," responded Horatio. He struggled to keep his voice even. "In you go, use the laptop to watch the cameras. Don't come out till either I or someone we know comes for you. Jessop will be here soon, to back me up. Do me a favor, call Eric and Frank." As he spoke he went to the shoe rack at the back of the closet and pushed firmly on the right side. The whole rack turned on a spindle, and created an opening into a hidden closet, about 4 feet wide and 6 feet long. There was a bench built into one end, with a soft pillow for a seat and a laptop plugged into the wall. The whole thing was concealed into the wall of the adjoining room, which now was rather small looking. They called it the office, as there was no closet now on that side.

He kissed her fiercely, and she clung to him. "Be safe," she begged. Then a funny look passed over her face, but was quickly gone.

"I always am," he responded, trying to reassure her. "This won't be long, Jessop is on the way." He watched her go to the bench seat, then swung the door shut. Then he moved the clothes on the closet rod back in front of the shoes, and slid the closet door shut.

He sprinted back into the kitchen and checked the cameras. There were now two men in black clothes and balaclavas approaching the far corner of the garage. Horatio watched as he opened his gun safe and grabbed his spare clip, which he dropped in his pocket. The men split up, one going to the side of the house, one coming around the front. Horatio took a stand in the dining area, where he could see the front and side doors.

In the panic room Marisol had turned on the laptop and while it booted was calling Eric.

"Delko," he briefly answered.

"Eric, Eric," gasped Marisol.

"Mari, what's wrong," shouted Eric.

"I don't know, but Horatio put me in the panic room," she whispered. "I'm waiting on the cameras to boot up. He said there were two women killed last night, and asked me to get ready, but suddenly he changed his mind and said we were out of time. Jessop is on his way, but Horatio said to call you and Frank." The computer at her side chirped. She clicked on the camera app.

"Eric, there are two men, dressed in black, one at the front door, one coming down the side of the house. They have guns," she got out. Just then another contraction, stronger than she felt before ran over her. It was over quickly, and she really hoped it was just the adrenaline. She didn't mention it to Eric, surely there was time.

She heard Eric ordering whoever he was with to call Frank and call in an "Officer needs assistance" to Horatio's. He wanted to keep Marisol on the phone.

Back in the kitchen, Horatio realized that the man at the front door was struggling to force it open, he couldn't know how much he and Eric had reinforced the door and the lock. The assailant left the door and stepped toward the window. Horatio smiled grimly, he would need a armor piercing rounds to get through the special glass. Horatio turned his attention to the narrow side door, which is where the first attack would come now.

Marisol watched in horror as the man on the side of the house carefully looked through the space between the blinds and the edge of the door to see if anyone was in the kitchen. Apparently, he saw Horatio, as he flattened himself against the wall. Then he used the stock of his shotgun to break the kitchen door window and whipping the shotgun around, he fired into the kitchen. He was immediately flung back by an unseen force. Marisol screamed, "Horatio!"

In the dining room, Horatio had seen the shadow at the window, so was prepared when the glass shattered. The speed with which the ensuing shotgun blast came at him was startling, but he managed to get a shot off. All he saw was the muzzle flash of the shotgun, then he felt a tremendous kick to his chest and was flung back. His head connected with the edge of the dining table, and everything went black. His last conscious thought was of Marisol, and a mental command to stay in the room.


	3. Chapter 3

Picks up immediately after chapter 2. Also, in my little make-believe world, Aaron Jessup survives. It always bothered me that he tried to run away from the grenade, when the water was right behind the rigged barbeque. I couldn't understand why he didn't just jump off the low wall, into the water!

* * *

Out front the other assailant heard the exchange of gunfire, and in frustration shot at the front window, in an attempt to break it out. He was armed with a handgun, however, and although the bullet made an impact crater on the surface of the glass, the window did not break. Cursing, he ran around the side of the house. He didn't see Jessop pull up in his black and white.

"Eric," moaned Marisol. "One of the men is down, Horatio must have shot him. I can't see Horatio, the first man shot into the kitchen, with a shotgun! The second man is coming around the side." She now saw Jessop pulling up from the garage camera. "Jessop is here! Can you tell him about the man on the side?"

Eric was pounded the dash in frustration, urging Calleigh to drive, drive. He got on the radio to dispatch and asked them to relay the message to Jessop, and he asked for ambulances to the scene.

"Mari, you're doing amazing," shouted Eric. "What's happening now?"

"Jessop stopped at the corner of the garage, it looks like he is listening," sobbed Marisol. "He is peeking around the corner. He is shouting something, now he is shooting." This was horrifying. It was like relating the events of an action movie, but she knew, real men were dying on the other side of the house.

"Jessop has hit the second man, he is running up the side of the house," she related. "Let me check the backyard cameras." She opened another window on the computer, and brought up the backyard cams. All was quiet there. "The backyard is empty Eric, Jessop can come in." Just then another wave of pain struck her. She moaned.

"Mari, what is it," urgently asked Eric.

"I think I'm in labor, Eric," she gasped. But it's ok, the pains are short, and not that close together. There should be time. Can I go out of the room? I want to see Horatio!"

"Not yet, Mari, you wait till Jessop clears the house, and I'll be there soon," responded Eric. "Other units, and ambulances should be arriving, too." He didn't mention his concern that Horatio hadn't come to the panic room door yet. Either he felt it wasn't safe, or he was too injured to get there. A shotgun blast did not bode well for Horatio.

Jessop reached through the broken glass of the kitchen door, turned the knob, and entered the kitchen. He began to clear the house. He saw the lieutenant, down on the floor in the dining room, but he carefully cleared the hall and living room before he ran to him. Jessop checked Horatio's pulse and found it surprisingly strong. There was a nasty spread, almost a foot across, of shotgun pellets in the center of his chest. His dress shirt was mostly burned away, and now, upon looking closer, Jessop laughed. Horatio had put on his body armor, under his dress shirt. None of the pellets had reached his skin. Why, Jessop wondered, was he unconscious? Had the kick to his chest damaged his heart, or knocked the breath out of him? No, his pulse was strong, and his chest rose and fell with regularity.

He felt around Horatio's head and neck and found a sizeable lump just above and behind his left ear. Head trauma? He looked up and saw the dining room table, and realized what must have happened. He heard sirens screaming up to the house, and used his radio to call in that he was in the house, and that it was clear. He didn't want to get shot by his fellow officers. He opened the front door, so that the emergency crews could get in. He waved the first responder over and explained the situation. They called the ambulance in, and the crews began to work, first on the lieutenant, then they checked the assailants, who were quite dead. They would be left for the crime scene investigators.

Jessop now approached the bedroom. He knew about the panic room. It had been part of the back-up plan that Horatio had devised. He stopped in front of the camera, and tapped on the door.

"Mrs. Caine, it's Officer Jessop," he said firmly, in order to be heard. "It's safe, you can open the door."

He heard the slide of the lock, and then the shoe rack swung aside. "Where's Horatio?" she demanded as she stepped out of the room, holding her abdomen.

"He's ok, Mrs. Caine," soothed Jessop. "He took a nasty knock to the head, but I'm sure he'll be alright."

"Ooohh," moaned Marisol. She swayed and bent over at the hips. Jessop caught her elbow.

"Are you alright, Ma'am?" he asked her.

"I will be, eventually," she gasped. "Thank you, Aaron, for everything! Can you take me to Horatio?"

"Let's go see what the medics say," he replied, correctly assessing her condition and figuring the medics would be best able to help her. He helped her from the room.

She would have run, if she had been able. The best she could manage was a fast waddle. By the time they got out to the living room the medics had Horatio up on a gurney. He was groggily fighting them, calling out, "Marisol, Marisol!"

She reached his side, and took his hand, "I'm here, Horatio, I'm fine," she said firmly. Instantly he relaxed, and gripped her hand. Behind her, Jessop told the EMT that he suspected Marisol was in early labor. He suggested he transport them together to the hospital.

Horatio swam up through a tide of pain and darkness, knowing there was something urgent he must do. Marisol! Marisol was in danger, but there were hands, gentle but insistent, keeping him from getting up. He had to get to her, so he began to struggle to be free of the restraints that were holding him down. Then suddenly, she was there, holding his hand and telling him that she was ok. He relaxed a bit. He opened his eyes, but the bright light of the fully risen sun was too much for him, he squeezed his eyes shut. What had happened?

"What happened?" he croaked out.

Jessop stepped up next to Marisol. "LT, you took out the man at the kitchen door, but you took a shotgun blast hard to the chest. The impact must have thrown you back, and it looks like your head hit the edge of the table. You've got a nasty lump on your head, and probably a mild to medium concussion," he explained. "It's a good thing you were wearing your body armor!"

At this moment, Eric and Calleigh burst into the scene. Eric came right to the gurney. "H, Marisol!" he interjected. "What's happened?"

Horatio squinted his eyes open a bare slit. "Jessop, give him the run down," he ordered. "Calleigh, order the team up, start processing the scene. You're in charge for at least a week." He knew the protocol for head injuries, he wouldn't be allowed near a case for a while. Suddenly, Marisol's grip on his hand tightened painfully. He carefully swiveled his squinted gaze over to her. She had a look of deep concentration on her face, and was breathing slowly and carefully.

The EMT had been watching her, and now sprang into action. "Ok, Lieutenant, let's get you and your wife loaded on the bus and to the hospital. I think you might want to get your head looked at, before your life gets busy."

"Marisol, are you ok?" asked Eric.

"Everyone keeps asking me that," she snarled. "I will be, in six to twelve hours, if everything I have been told is accurate."

"Eric, can you follow us to the hospital?" asked Horatio. "I'm going to be down for a while, and I don't want her alone, even for a moment!"

"I'll be right behind you," promised Eric.

"Aaron, thank you, for everything," said Horatio to Jessop. "Please stay here, help Calleigh, then come to the hospital once the others have arrived."

"Sure thing, LT. Get that head looked at," assured Jessop.

The EMT's started walking the gurney to the ambulance, Marisol keeping pace at Horatio's side. She had to let go long enough to get the gurney into the back, and then two medics helped her up into the ambulance. She took a seat at Horatio's side and grabbed his hand again. One of the EMT's folded a blanket up and put it behind her, so she could lean back a bit. She smiled at him gratefully. She wanted to lean down, and talk to Horatio, but couldn't manage it over her increasingly tight abdomen.

"Hell of a day, sweetheart," whispered Horatio.

"And the sun is barely up," she replied. She thought she should be feeling more stressed, but apparently labor was good for shock. The ambulance pulled out, siren and apparently lights going. Interestingly, the sound wasn't as penetrating in the back of the ambulance as Horatio had feared.

"How far apart are your contractions, ma'am," asked the EMT.

"Not far enough, isn't this supposed to kind of slow at the beginning?" panted Marisol.

"They may slow down, now that the stress is over, ma'am," said the EMT. "A big shot of adrenaline can kind of kick start things. As that wears off, they may ease up."

"If they will slow enough to get my husband patched up and at my side, I'll be fine," she replied.

When they arrived at the hospital the EMT's helped her out first, then brought out Horatio. He grimaced as the gurney hit the ground.

As they entered the emergency room Marisol was pleased to see she knew the admitting doctor. He was the same one who had treated her the year before, after the shooting. She listened to the EMT's rundown.

"Male, GSW to the mid chest, stopped by body armor. I haven't cut the armor away to check the ribs yet. Head trauma, left parietal area, unconscious for 3-5 minutes, combative on waking. Sensitivity to light, motion, and sound. Then he continued, "Female, 39 weeks gestation, contractions every 5 minutes, but mild." He smiled at Marisol.

Horatio spoke, but without opening his eyes, "Thank you, sir,"

Marisol looked at his name tag, "C. Hall" was written there. "Thank you, Mr. Hall," she said. He waved and turned back to the ambulance. He made a note to check on them later.

The doctor looked at Marisol, she seemed fine at the moment. He ordered a wheel chair for her.

"Well, Lieutenant you've had a busy year, and apparently a busy day," observed the doctor, as they walked to an exam room. "Could your wife wait for you in the waiting area, please?" He had observed the death grip Horatio had on Marisol's hand.

"No!" almost shouted Horatio, who immediately fell back with a groan. "No," he now whispered. "Not until Eric gets here."

"He has good reason to be concerned, Doctor," put in Marisol. "My brother, you stitched up his arm last year, remember? He should be here any second. Till then, I think it would be best if I stay near Horatio. You won't get any cooperation from him otherwise, anyway. And maybe, call for some extra security at the door?"

Horatio was pleased with her good sense, and squeezed her hand gratefully. If only his head would stop throbbing.

"Winning friends, and influencing people again, eh, lieutenant?" said the doctor. "Ok, I can work with that, let's have a look at you."

He cut away Horatio's shirt and started undoing the buckles on the vest. He laid that open, but didn't ask Horatio to move at all. Then he cut away the t-shirt underneath. An enormous bruise was spreading across Horatio's chest.

"Ok, Mr. Caine, I want you to slowly breath in, as far as you can, stop if you feel any pain," instructed the doctor.

Horatio began to breath in slowly, but had only gotten about a half a breath before he winced and stopped. "Hurts, doc," he whispered. "Like a hard ache, like I've been punched."

"Ok, were going to send you to X-Ray and get your skull and chest checked," said the Doctor. "Once we know more, will work on some pain management."

Marisol felt a twinge of anxiety for him, and then a twinge of another contraction. She put her other hand on the edge of the bed and bent over slightly, and took a deep breath. But this contraction was much easier than the ones before, and over sooner. Everyone was looking at her when she looked up.

"It's ok, it was easy," she reassured Horatio and the doctor.

"Still, I want you on a monitor, for at least an hour," insisted the doctor.

At that moment, Eric burst into the room. "Ah, good," said the doctor sardonically. "The second string is here."

"Mr. Delko, you seem undamaged this time," started the Doctor. "Would you be so good as to get Lieutenant Caine to unhand his wife, so we can see to his injuries? We have a nice wheel chair here for Mrs. Caine, I'd like you and the orderly to wheel her up to labor and delivery."

"H, it's ok, you can let go now," said Eric. "I won't let her out of my sight, I promise."

"Horatio, let go, I'll go upstairs and get looked at, and make sure the baby is ok," suggested Marisol.

Reluctantly Horatio let go of Marisol's hand. She stooped over as well as she was able and gently kissed his forehead.

The doctor walked them to the door, and Marisol laid her hand on his arm. She looked at his name on his coat, 'Dr. Adams'.

"Tell me, Dr. Adams, is he ok?" she asked.

"Well, he is very responsive to instruction, so he is processing events well. The blow to his head looks bad, but I don't think there's any fracture. I think he is mildly concussed. He is going to need rest and quiet, if he can get it," he continued, looking at Marisol's belly. "I do need to check for broken ribs. Do either of you know how far he was from the weapon, when it discharged? From the scatter pattern on his chest, I say it couldn't be much more than 15 feet or so. He's lucky it was so close."

"That sounds about right, the distance from the side door, across the kitchen, and into the dining room," mused Eric.

"But why is that lucky?" asked Marisol. How could it be lucky to be closer to the weapon?

"Shotgun pellets disperse, Mari," explained Eric. "The further you are from the discharge, the wider the pattern. If he had been farther away he might have been struck in the arms or the face, which weren't protected by the vest."

"Still, at that distance, it would pack quite a wallop," continued Dr. Adams. "He is going to be very sore for several days. And with a concussion we will have to limit his pain killers to simple anti-inflammatory medicines."

The doctor settled Marisol in the wheel chair and flagged down an orderly to take her to Labor and Delivery. He handed Eric a clipboard, with incomprehensible instructions on it.

As Marisol and Eric made their way to the fourth floor, where the labor and delivery wing of the hospital was housed, Marisol's phone began to ring. She glanced down, and cringed when she saw it was her mother. She had completely forgotten, Carmen was supposed to come over and help set up the baby's things, in the office. She answered the phone.

"Hello, Mami, I'm ok," she started. But she had to hold the phone away from her ear, and even the orderly could hear the string of mixed Spanish and Russian invective coming from the phone.

"Mami, slow down, please, and speak one language, preferably English," begged Marisol.

"What in the name of the Holy Mother is happening, Marisol?" yelled Carmen. "I can't get anywhere near your place, there are police and firetrucks everywhere, the road is blocked off!"

"There was an incident at the house, Mami," replied Marisol. "Horatio was hurt, but it doesn't look too bad. I'm at the hospital with Eric, now."

"Hurt, how hurt," demanded Carmen, but in a lower tone. Marisol still cautiously held the phone away from her ear a bit.

"Well, he was shot, but he was wearing his body armor," began Marisol. "He may have some broken ribs, and hit his head when he fell, so he may have a concussion."

"Shot, shot?" gasped Carmen. "Are you safe, are you alright?"

"I had some contractions, but they seem to be fading away now," answered Marisol. "I'm on my way to have a monitor put on, to check that the baby is ok." She carefully avoided the word "labor".

"What can I do for you, hija," said Carmen, now in a more normal tone.

Marisol hemmed and hawed a bit. She couldn't put her mother at risk, so having her with her at the hospital was out, until she knew that there was no further threat.

"Mami, go home," she replied. "I'll call you as soon as I know anything. And Eric will let us know as soon as we can get into the house. Give me an hour, you know how doctors and hospitals are."

"Alright, Mari," grudgingly said Carmen. "You call me if you need anything. I love you, hija."

"I love you too, Mami. I'll talk to you soon," replied Marisol and hung up the phone.

* * *

AN I know next to nothing about firearms. I looked up the information about shotgun pellet dispersal. But I don't know what the impact in lbs/square inch would be, or whether body armor would protect the victim enough at close range from internal injury. So just let's just call it artistic license.


	4. Chapter 4

Back at the Caine house, Calleigh had taken control of the scene. She had called Alexx, and asked her to go to the scene of the second body drop, where Natalia was.

"Alexx, I need to know if the second victim is like the first," she instructed.

"You mean, an already autopsied body, stolen from somewhere, and staged to look like Marisol," bluntly stated Alexx.

"Yes, at least we will be able to tell Horatio and Marisol that this attempt didn't mean two new victims," said Calleigh. "I'm calling on the night crew, to come process Horatio's house. It really looks like there were attempting to kill or capture Horatio and/or Marisol, by getting him out of the house."

"Have you heard, how is Horatio?" asked Alexx.

"Nothing yet," said Calleigh, worriedly. "He was talking when he left, but he couldn't face the light, and he could only whisper. Marisol certainly rose to the occasion."

"He's probably concussed, and that blast to the chest is probably restricting his breathing," speculated Alexx. "Let me know as soon as you hear anything."

"I'll send a group text," affirmed Calleigh.

Then she called Captain Hernandez and gave him a run down on events. She suggested that she send Officer Jessop to the hospital, to keep watch on Lieutenant Caine and his wife, and he agreed. He told her that he had sent Frank Tripp to her location, and to use his help as she saw fit.

"Let's tie this up as quick as we can, Duquesne," ordered the captain. "We want Caine and his wife safe, and we need to minimize the public exposure to these nut jobs."

"Yes, sir," responded Calleigh and hung up. Just then Frank came in. She waved him over. She called out to Officer Jessop, and sent him to the hospital.

"See to Lieutenant Caine first, since Eric is with Marisol," she suggested. He nodded as he headed out the door.

"Calleigh, what the Sam Hill happened?" demanded Frank. She ran through the events, from the first body drop to the departure of the ambulance.

"Ok, what do you want done first?" he asked.

"Let's start with the two dead bodies outside. Then, we need to check with MDPD and see if any bodies are reported missing or stolen," she instructed. They made their way to the side of the house.

Calleigh knelt down by the first body, which Jessop had identified as the man he had shot. The round had gone through his solar plexus, and angled upward, before exiting out, just below his scapula. He was still in his balaclava, and she examined it closely. There was a fine pale powder scattered on it. She snapped on a pair of gloves, and brushed some of this powder into a paper envelope. Then she used a sterile swab to test it for drugs. That was negative. Then she carefully cut the mask from his face.

"I know this mutt," said Frank, startled. "I thought he was still in prison. He's hired muscle, not too bright, but willing to do anything for a payday. Name's Scott Thomas. I'll check his stats when I get in." He made a note in his notebook.

Calleigh now turned to the other man. She admired Horatio's handy work. Even looking through the broken glass, with a shotgun aimed at him, he had managed to hit his target square in the imaginary 10 ring over the left side of the chest. He too had a fine coating of a powder over his balaclava. She repeated the tests, just to be sure. The results were the same. Then she cut away his mask and looked up at Frank.

"Nope, sorry, I don't know this one," he stated. "Let's run his prints, when we get back to the lab. Horatio is still a great shot!"

Calleigh waved the ME's van in, and gave instructions to the driver. Just then two CSI's from the night crew arrived with their paraphernalia. Calleigh went over to them.

"Dex, Audrey, thanks for coming out," started Calleigh. "I know you must have just gotten home, when I called you."

Dexter, a younger man, was a bit star struck by Calleigh, and stammered, "No problem, Det. Duquesne."

"So, this is LT's place?" remarked Audrey, an older night shift employee. "Is Lieutenant Caine ok?"

"Right now, it's our crime scene, and we need to process the car at the end of the drive, too," replied Calleigh. "The Lieutenant is being attended to, but he was talking when he left. So, we can hope for the best. Inside is a bit of a mess, with all the EMT's and police. The DB's are on the far side of the house, and I have collected some evidence, and Det. Trip has ID'd one of them already."

"Alright," said Audrey. "I'll get photos of house, window, and doors. Dex, why don't you start on the car, I'll help you finish up shortly."

Calleigh nodded in approval, Audrey knew what needed to be done, and knew how to delegate. She only added one thing.

"Dexter, there was an unidentified powder on the gunmen's masks," Calleigh informed him. "It isn't a drug, at least not a common one, but watch for it. If you find any in the car, take samples. If it's an uncommon substance it might give us a location."

Calleigh's phone rang, and she saw Alexx's number. She waved Audrey and Dex off to their jobs. "Alexx, it's Calleigh, what did you find?" she asked.

"It's just like the first body," Alexx answered. "She has obviously been dead a while, and in cold storage. She has a wig, to make her look more like Marisol, and her dress is a simple white cotton halter dress, not as elaborate as Marisol's, but very like it at first glance." All the CSI's had seen Horatio and Marisol's wedding picture, up on the visor of his Hummer.

"Alexx, before you post them could you check with your connections, and see if any schools or mortuaries are reporting missing bodies?" asked Calleigh. "It's a little outside your job description, but I am down Horatio, Eric, and now Officer Jessop, who is doing body guard duty on Horatio. It could really help."

"I can do that, honey," said Alexx. "I'll see you at the lab."

"I'm sending two more bodies to you," sighed Calleigh.

"Well these two women won't take long. Somewhere there are already postmortems on them," Alexx replied. "I'll start on your two as soon as they arrive."

"Thanks, Alexx," said Calleigh, hanging up.

"Frank, could you go in, and see when Mr. Thomas was released? Then check with the prison, see who his associates were inside. That might give us a lead on who is calling the shots," suggested Calleigh.

"That's what I was thinking, Calleigh," replied Frank. "Are you ok here?"

"I'm fine, and Natalia is on the way," she replied. "We should be wrapped up here within a couple of hours."

As the day progressed they heard that Marisol's labor had slowed, and the Horatio was being evaluated, but that it looked like the vest had saved him from serious injury.

Alexx found that a mortuary had been broken into, and two bodies stolen. She informed them of the current location of the poor, deceased women, and began the process of releasing them back to their grieving families. She informed Eric so that he could let Marisol and Horatio know.

Frank went to the prison, not his favorite place, and interviewed some of the guards and trustees. He gradually pieced together the fact that some of the perps from Horatio's more recent cases had been seen in contact with each other. He knew that Scott Thomas would do anything for a decent paycheck, and some of Horatio's enemies had connections outside. He began the tedious job of running down visitors and phone calls, and started looking for financial leads.

* * *

Back at the hospital Horatio had been X-rayed, and happily, despite the discomfort he was in, there were no fractures to his ribs or skull. Dr. Adams admitted him on a mild concussion protocol, since he knew Marisol might not be home with him. He administered some pain meds and gave him a couple of ice packs.

"Let's keep you here for 24 hours," he suggested. "Then we can keep an eye on your wife, too. Since you were unconscious when you were found, and combative when you woke, I'm within my rights to do so."

"Doctor, I'd be willing, but it may not be safe," said Horatio. "Can you put me in a room, or an area of the hospital that is out of the way? Or unexpected? I don't want other people put at risk."

Dr. Adams was nonplussed, but rolled with the request. "Hmm, I have some sway here," he replied. "You're just lowly police lieutenant, right? Let's put you in the VIP wing. No one will look for you there. I'll check if there is availability."

"Umm, that might not be prudent," said Horatio. "I have put a few VIP's away, and I wouldn't want to put any innocent person at risk."

"Tell you what, let me check and see if one of the end rooms in Labor and Delivery is available," Dr. Adams suggested. "If it isn't crazy up there, that should put you and your wife off by yourselves, and those rooms have a bed for the mother, and a foldaway for the dad. That will cost less, too."

Horatio accepted this, but he knew that he would want Eric or Aaron with him. He was in no condition to protect Marisol himself, which infuriated him.

Dr. Adams found that L and D was quiet, so he had an orderly wheel Horatio, now upright in a wheelchair, up to Marisol's room. Aaron Jessop followed him. Eric stood outside the door, which Horatio was glad to see was around a bend, away from the main area. It was inconvenient for the nursing staff, but safer.

"H, it's good to see you upright," quietly said Eric. "How are you?"

"Bruised and I've got a killer headache," answered Horatio. "How's Mari?"

"It took a while to convince the nurses to put us out of the way, and they don't like me, or my weapon very much right now," began Eric. "A doctor is examining her. She had a few more contractions, but she seems fine. She sure did well this morning. She called me and was able to tell me, moment to moment, what was going down." Eric tapped on the door, and when they heard Marisol call them in, he carefully pushed Horatio's chair through the door. The doctor inside helped, and dimmed the lights, which Horatio was immediately grateful for. She noticed Officer Jessop at the door with Eric, but didn't say anything.

The doctor who had been examining Marisol helped Horatio maneuver the chair next to the bed.

"Lieutenant Caine, it's good to see you," said the doctor gently. She was a tall, slender woman, older, with a cloud of silver hair around her head. She had a pleasant, quiet voice. "Your wife said that you might have a concussion, and broken ribs. What was Dr. Adams diagnosis?"

"No broken bones, doctor, and a mild concussion," answered Horatio. "He gave me some strong anti-inflammatory, which is helping with the pain some. I'm supposed to stay here for 24 hours. How is Marisol?"

The doctor stepped toward him, and quickly looked at his chest through the top of the gown Horatio was wearing. Before he could react, she had gently and lightly run her hand over the back of head. She gave a low whistle at observing his injuries. "Ouch," was all she said.

"Ok," she continued. "Mrs. Caine is fine, she is exactly where I would expect a young, healthy woman at 39 weeks would be. The contractions have tailed off, and the baby's heart rate is strong. If 30 years of delivering babies has made me any judge, your regular OB should be laying that sweet baby in your arms in 5-10 days."

"Thank you, doctor," said Horatio. "Dr. Adams was hoping I could stay here, as it is safer and more secure for Marisol. Until my team can run down who attacked us this morning I would rather she not return home."

The doctor replied to his unspoken request, "You're in luck. Since this isn't Friday or Saturday, or a full moon, or an active hurricane, we are only moderately busy, and the nurses don't use this room till last, as it is farthest from their station. So, you can stay, unless there is a sudden influx of laboring mothers. Did Dr. Adams go over the concussion protocol with you?"

Horatio handed her the paper he had been holding.

"Mrs. Caine, let's go over a couple of things," said Dr. Carter. "A mild concussion is best treated seriously, and right away. There are some things you can do. We need to keep his environment quiet, and low light, for at least 2-3 days. He shouldn't read or look at anything backlit. It's very boring for the patient, and the stronger the personality, the harder it is to contain them. After that time, he may take short walks, or look at shaded areas, but he should avoid any strenuous activity, serious reading, or exposure to television or computer screens. At the end of a week, ideally, we can re-evaluate him. The key to quick recovery is strong self-discipline at the beginning. That baby may not give you a full week, but let's hope for the best."

She continued, but now directed her comments to Horatio. She watched him closely, to see if he understood. "Now, about the guard. I see there is a uniformed officer out there, with Det. Delko. I would prefer the armed, uniformed officer, if you don't mind; as a man in uniform is much less alarming than an armed man in street clothes. He is also a stronger deterrent, which is indicated here."

Horatio was amused and gratified, as this doctor, Carter, by the name on her coat, seemed to have a quick understanding of police matters.

"Aaron Jessop can't stand there for 24 hours," he said. "Could I ask Eric to dress more formally?"

"Don't worry about that, I'll call Alberto Hernandez, and explain it to him," answered the Doctor.

"How do you know my Captain," asked Horatio, startled.

Dr. Carter grinned, "I delivered his sons, back in the day." She stepped to the door, and opening it, asked Eric to come inside.

Eric came in and went to Marisol. He gave her a quick kiss on the top of the head. "Hey Sis, how are you."

Marisol replied, "Apparently, I still have a week or so to go. But we're going to stay here, so Horatio can rest."

"Detective, can you shift that easy chair over here, near the bed?" asked the doctor. Eric quickly complied with this request and dragged the recliner from the window to be next to the bed.

"Ok, now I want you to stand in front of your lieutenant," began the doctor. Eric went and stood in front of Horatio's wheelchair. "Lieutenant, slowly raise your hands, and put them on Mr. Delco's biceps. Mr. Delko, put your hands around his upper torso, but don't pull him up too quickly."

Eric understood what the doctor wanted, and stood ready. Horatio hissed as he raised his arms, his chest muscles were very sore.

"Brace yourself back a bit, Mr. Delko," instructed Dr. Carter. "Now, Lieutenant, begin to pull yourself up. It's going to smart, but try to do so smoothly."

Horatio attempted to slowly pull himself up to standing. The doctor was right, it hurt. Eric applied just the right amount of counter balance and lift, and Horatio stood. Now, in addition to his chest, his head was pounding. He let his head drop against Eric's shoulder.

"Yes, the head will pound, whenever you change position," sympathized the doctor. "Catch your breath, and when your head clears, we'll go to the next step.

Marisol looked on, concern on her face. She was glad Eric was there. If they went home tomorrow, she knew she would need help. She couldn't help Horatio up in her current state.

"Ok, doc, I'm ready," said Horatio, lifting his head.

"Mr. Delko, pivot a bit, and let Mr. Caine step around you, till he has his back to the chair," instructed the doctor. They did this little waltz step, and Horatio was now standing in front of the recliner. "Ok, slowly lower him into the chair, but take care that the back of his head comes down easy." In a moment, Horatio was seated in the recliner. He was breathing shallowly, and mentally cursing his current frailty.

"Good, now that is where you are going to stay, for at least 4 hours," insisted Doctor Carter. "You may recline, but don't go too far back, to minimize changes in head position."

Eric was feeling overwhelmed by Horatio's apparent weakness. In the 8 years they had known each other, H had never had so much as a cold. He was one of the constants in Eric's life, and to have to help him stand and sit was alarming. He stepped to Horatio's side, and laid a hand on his shoulder, which was as warm and firm as ever. Horatio, even in his muddled state, instantly understood, and reached up and laid his hand over Eric's. The muscles in his chest protested, but he ignored that.

"Mrs. Caine, you can move about, but keep the room quiet and dim for now. He may sleep, and a nurse will check on him in 4 hours. He may have sips of water, but no food for now. Nausea would certainly follow on any eating." said Dr. Carter. "At noon, however, I will have the nurse bring you a tray for lunch."

"I'll go call Alberto, and see what he can do about rotating the guard. Detective Delko, you may stay and keep Marisol company, but I would rather you not hang out in the hall armed like that," insisted the Doctor. She left the room.

"Marisol," began Horatio, relieved to now be alone with his family. "You did well this morning, sweetheart. Eric told me you really stayed calm, and helped Jessop, which in turn, probably saved me."

Marisol levered herself out of the bed, and very gently kissed the top of Horatio's head, the only part of him she could reach without stooping over. His hand slid off Eric's, and across to her side of his chair. She took it, careful to not lift it up. Eric put his hand on her shoulder now, and they stood there a moment, relishing the peace and quiet.

"Mari, is there anything you need?" asked Eric.

"Yes, Eric, two things," replied Marisol. "One, can you get back to our place, and bring me my 'Go Bag'? It has a change of clothes, and things to do in it. And two, can you explain what is happening to Mami? I am just not up to it."

"One will be easy, but you're going to owe me for two," said Eric darkly. Horatio huffed at this comment. He didn't envy Eric!


	5. Chapter 5

Continues directly from Chap 4. This wraps up this fic. More in the Horatio/Marisol universe to come. These characters are not mine, nor do I profit from them.

* * *

Horatio soon fell asleep, propped up in the chair. Eric and Marisol watched him for a while.

"You know, H has never been injured while on the job, here in Miami," said Eric. "It's ironic, that he was hurt at home."

"I know he was stabbed, when he was in New York," mentioned Marisol. "The scar is pretty bad. But that must have been a long time ago."

"More than a decade, I should think," agreed Eric. "Well, Sis, I'm going to go get your stuff, check on your place, and talk to Mami. Once the CSI team finishes there I'll make sure the place is secure, and maybe Mami and Papi can tidy up. I'll be back in a couple of hours." He quietly slipped out of the room.

"How are they?" worriedly asked Aaron Jessop.

"Mari is fine, the labor has stopped," replied Eric. "H is in a lot of pain though. The doc is going to keep an eye on him, and they should be out by tomorrow."

"I'm not surprised he's hurting, that is one hell of a lump on his head, and that chest bruise must make moving hard," said Jessop.

"I'm going to go check with Calleigh, and pick up some things for my sister," began Eric. "Can you stand guard here? The doctor knows Captain Hernandez, and is going to ask for a rotation, but do me a favor, when your relief comes, if you don't know the officer by sight, please check with dispatch before you go?"

"You think someone will try again?" asked Jessop.

"I hope not, but let's assume this isn't over," said Eric. "Right now, no one knows where they are, so that's should protect them a while."

Back in the room, Marisol laid on her side, facing Horatio. Now that all the drama was over, and Horatio was close by, and apparently safe, she allowed herself a few tears, but was careful not to make any noise. She realized that she had toughened up a lot in the past year. It was hard to process, that vengeful men wanted to hurt her and Horatio. Apparently, they weren't willing to admit to themselves that they were responsible for their actions and punishment, and were trying to vent themselves on her family.

And she realized afresh, that two men and two women had died that day, and that she had, in a way, helped Jessop to kill one of the men. At the time, she had only been thinking of helping Jessop and Horatio. She gulped. What did that say about her, that men had died, and she had just forgotten them?

"Mari, are you ok," whispered Horatio. Apparently, he wasn't as deeply asleep as she had hoped.

"I'm sorry, Horatio," whispered Marisol. "I didn't want to wake you."

"Not really sleeping," he replied. "Just processing."

"I guess I am, too," she said. "I helped Aaron kill a man, but I don't feel bad about it, just relieved that you and he weren't hurt worse or killed. What does that say about me?"

Horatio sighed. "Remember, back that day, last year, when you asked me to dinner, the first time, and I said I didn't think it was a good idea? This was one of the things I didn't want for you. You're so full of light, and life, even then when you were so sick. All you wanted to do was to help others. I didn't want my world to change you."

"But Horatio," she replied. "I'm a better person for knowing you!" She rubbed her abdomen and continued. "I'll admit, knowing you has changed me, but I wouldn't go back!"

His lips quirked in a small smile. "I love you, Mari," he started. "Remember Cardinal Benedetti? Maybe his words will help you. He has told me, more than once, knowing my profession, that it isn't about the life you take, but about the lives you save. Your actions today probably saved Aaron, me, yourself, and our baby. Those men, probably hired to do the job, chose to attack us, in our home no less. They knew who I was, and still chose. They made their choices, and we made ours. We're allowed to defend ourselves, Mari, even if we have to use deadly force to do it."

"Thanks, Horatio, that does help," she replied. "I love you, too. Why don't you try and rest a bit? I got woken up pretty early this morning, maybe now I can nap, too."

"Ok, sweetheart," he murmured. He would have turned his head, to watch her, but that would have pressed the bruise into the chair. It was too painful. He gave into sleep, and hoped she would sleep too.

They managed about three hours of napping. Marisol woke to a gentle, and oddly familiar voice, calling to Horatio.

"Mr. Caine, come on now, let's wake up," came the gentle voice of a new nurse. Marisol recognized the voice, and when she opened her eyes she recognized the speaker.

"I know you," she said, surprised. The nurse was gently rubbing Horatio's shoulder, and trying to bring him awake. "You administered my chemo, last year."

"That's right, Mrs. Caine," replied the nurse, delighted to be remembered. "I see you and Mr. Caine have been busy. I take it the chemo worked?"

"That and prayer," growled Horatio. "Do I have to wake up? It doesn't hurt so much, when I'm sleeping."

"Ah, good," responded the nurse. "I'm sorry, sir, but you do have to wake up, and I can give you something for the pain, in a moment. What's your name?"

"Horatio Caine," promptly replied Horatio.

"Who is this?" asked the nurse, gesturing at Marisol.

"My wife, Marisol," grumbled Horatio.

"How many fingers am I holding up? Last one, I promise," she said. Horatio squinted at her, reluctant to open his eyes fully. When he realized that the room was still quite dim, he relaxed a bit.

"Three," replied Horatio.

"Good, you pass," said the nurse. She pulled a capped hypo from her pocket, and gently flipping over Horatio's left hand, she injected the medicine into the IV port that had been placed there.

She leaned in close, and whispered to him, "Mr. Caine, you might want to use the men's, or if you don't feel you can get up, I can bring you a bedpan? If you want to get up, I can help you."

Suddenly, to his embarrassment, Horatio realized he did need to go to the men's. He eyed the nurse speculatively, she didn't seem big enough to help him to stand.

"I'm stronger than I look," she grinned at him. "And I think you might find it a bit easier on your head than last time you stood." She didn't tell him she wanted to see how he walked, so she could report his condition back to Dr. Adams.

Slowly, Horatio brought himself upright in the recliner. She was correct, moving his head hurt at the bruise, but it wasn't pounding inside, the way it had been. The nurse stood in front of him, and he carefully brought his arms up to her shoulders. She provided the stability he needed, but let him bring himself up. His chest muscles screamed in protest, and he hissed, but kept pulling himself up. When he was upright he realized he wasn't dizzy, or in tremendous pain.

"Well, that is better than last time," he said. The nurse stood at his side, and waited for him to take a step. He stepped forward, cautiously, and was pleased that he seemed able to walk unassisted. The nurse paced him to the door of the suite's bathroom, and showed him the grab bars. He went in and shut the door. The nurse looked back at Marisol and gave a thumb's up. Marisol grinned. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, and sat up fully.

They heard running water, and Horatio came out of the bathroom, drying his hands and face on a paper towel.

"That's much better, Nurse, thank you," he said, relieved that he felt more mobile, and more like himself. He walked easily, straight over to Marisol. He picked up her hand, and turned to the nurse.

"I remember you, too," he said to the nurse. "How did you wind up here?"

"I'm doing an emergency room rotation, and I heard you were here," she replied. "I asked Dr. Adams if I could check on you. It's nice to see my past patients surviving, and moving on with their lives." She looked at Marisol. "How much longer?" she asked, gesturing at Marisol's abdomen.

"A week or so, according to Dr. Carter," answered Marisol.

"Well, if Dr. Carter says so, it will be true," replied the nurse. "She's amazing. Well, you two, enjoy your stay, if you can. Someone will bring you a tray, but Mr. Caine, go easy. Crackers and applesauce might be safe." She went out the door.

"Mari," crooned Horatio. He tugged on her hand, and she stood. He wrapped her up in his arms, and she gently hugged him. She was barefoot, so she fit under his chin. She was careful not to lean into his chest too closely. He closed his eyes and marveled at how perfect she was for him.

The baby chose this peaceful moment to protest being squished between her parents. She began to squirm and kick. She managed to land a solid kick, right into the lower edge of the bruise on Horatio's chest. "Ow!" he laughingly exclaimed. "What does that feel like, from your side?"

"It feels good, really good," Marisol replied. "It's good to feel your baby move, and know that she is alive and active. It can get tiring, if she won't stop when I am trying to sleep. And don't even get me started about the hiccups!"

"She gets hiccups?" asked Eric, coming through the door. He had Marisol's bag, and a suit coat and dress shirt for Horatio. "You look a lot better, H, you feeling ok?"

"I'm feeling better, thanks, Eric," replied Horatio. "Thank you for the clothes! I had forgotten about my shirt and jacket."

"I gotta admit, your wardrobe makes choices easy," said Eric. He noticed that Horatio didn't move away from Marisol, he just continued to embrace her. H was really relaxing!

"It saves a lot of time," smiled Horatio. He released Marisol, and sat down. He grimaced a bit when the muscles of his chest protested. "Is there any progress on the case?"

"Yeah, Frank ID'd one of the attackers, and found that he had only been out of prison a week. So, he is following up at the prison, finding out who this Scott Thomas associated with," answered Eric. "Calleigh found some rock dust on both shooters masks, so she has those samples in trace, and is running down places where it can be found. And maybe most importantly, Alexx found both the young women's bodies had been stolen from a mortuary. They had died previously and were awaiting burial." He knew this would relieve some of Marisol's concerns. At least innocent people hadn't died to bring this insane plot forward.

Horatio nodded, "It sounds like you are making good progress, considering you are down 2 CSI's."

"Ok, that is enough talking shop," interjected Marisol.

"She's right, H," agreed Eric. "Calleigh is running the lab well, we'll catch any who are still out. You gotta take care of yourself, 'cause in a few days, you're going to need to be taking care of her." He gestured to Marisol. "And I had better get back to the lab. Since I'm related to you both, IAB doesn't want me out on the street. They seem to think I might get out of hand." He smiled grimly. They all knew there was a foundation of truth to that sentiment.

"Oh, and Mami and Papi are setting your place back to normal. They have a uniformed officer stationed at the house, too," he informed them.

"Thanks, little brother," said Marisol.

"Yes, thank you, Eric," said Horatio. Eric waved as he left the room.

Marisol watched Horatio. He was a man of action, and she knew having to sit and wait for others to do things might be hard. Still, he was a good delegator, and trusted his staff to do their jobs.

Horatio was pondering his enforced inactivity. He remembered when he had been stabbed, back in New York. He hadn't taken well to bed rest then either, and had gone back to work too quickly. He knew that had prolonged his recovery. He was now self-disciplined enough to stick to the doctor's instructions, and he had more than himself to think about. He relaxed fractionally back into the chair. and heard Marisol's hum of approval. His lips quirked. He knew he was being watched.

"I'll be good, Mom, I promise," he whispered. He resolved to attempt another nap, but he knew that concussion patients often had disrupted sleep patterns.

The afternoon and evening wore away. Marisol got a little bored, but the bed had a directional light over it, so she was able to read, without turning on the overheads. She played with her phone, and ate the hospital food they brought her. Horatio remained still, but she didn't feel that he was truly asleep. His posture was a little too upright for that.

By the evening meal, Horatio's body was clamoring for food, but his stomach felt a little rebellious. The nurse brought him another dose of anti-inflammatory, and a tray of dry toast and a dish of applesauce, which he was able to eat and keep down. Then he began to walk around the room slowly. He still couldn't tolerate any bright lights, but he could walk easily.

The guard outside the door had changed. Jessop had stepped in to say goodbye, and assure them that he knew the replacement. Horatio had walked over to him, and shaken his hand.

"Thank you, Aaron," he said.

"Happy to help, LT," replied Jessop. "I'll be back, tomorrow, early, so I can take you home. Do you have keys to the SUV? Or are they back at the house?"

"I have no idea," said Horatio, startled. "Let's check my belongings." They rummaged through the bag of things the emergency room staff had handed him on his way up to L and D. Sure enough, the SUV keys were in the bottom. He had forgotten, he wouldn't be allowed to drive for a bit.

"Ok, I'll park my unit in front of the house tomorrow morning, and fetch you in the SUV," said Aaron. "See you tomorrow."

At nine p.m. a new nurse came in and checked Horatio's vitals, and asked how Marisol was feeling. She moved the recliner, and pulled the bed out of the couch that was built into the wall. She efficiently made the bed, which looked to be full sized, and using the cushions from the couch as bolsters, created a reclined place for Horatio to sleep. She had brought some extra pillows, too.

"Remember," she started. "Keep your head a little elevated, it will pound less if you need to get up." She wished them a good night and retreated. Neither Marisol nor Horatio was tired enough for sleep.

Horatio gingerly settled into the bed, and said, "Come here, sweetheart." She gratefully scooted next to him, and he folded her into his right side. They both sighed.

"This is the best medicine I have had all day," he murmured into her hair.

Marisol lay on her side, and put her free arm over Horatio's belly, away from his bruise. "How are you feeling," she asked.

"The bruise on my head is throbbing a bit, and I don't want to you to worry about the bruise on my chest," he answered.

"Don't do that, Horatio," she didn't quite snap.

Startled at her tone, he asked, "Do what?"

"Whenever you want to shoulder a burden alone, you always say that," she replied. "I see right through that, it tells me you're in considerable pain. You don't have to suffer alone! I'm your wife, and I might be able to help."

"I'm sorry, I do it without thinking," responded Horatio. "We've been together a year, and you're so precious to me, that I try to shield you."

"I know, but you need to learn to distinguish between the things I can't do anything about, and the things I can," she whispered. "For example," and now she disengaged from his arms, and got up. She pressed the nurses call button.

"Yes, Mrs. Caine," came the disembodied voice of the night nurse.

"Mr. Caine could use some ice packs for his head and chest, please," she requested.

"I'll send them right down," she immediately replied. It must have been a quiet night in Labor and Delivery!

Marisol leaned against her hospital bed, and in a few minutes, there was a tap at the door. The guard posted there stuck his head in, and seeing Marisol upright, brought the ice packs to her.

"Good evening, LT, I'm Officer Avery," he introduced himself. "I was at the academy with Aaron Jessop, sir."

"Good to meet you, Avery, excuse me for not getting up," answered Horatio.

"We've all heard what happened, sir," he responded. "We're all glad you're not hurt worse!" He turned to Marisol and said, "Good night, Ma'am."

"Good night, Officer, and thank you," replied Marisol. As soon as the door was shut she sat down next to Horatio and carefully laid the ice pack over his gown, over the bruised area, and handed him the smaller one to position behind his head. He tucked it over the bruise, which promptly made it ache, but he knew if he left it there for a few minutes it would help. Marisol tucked herself back into his side. She stayed quiet for a few minutes, waiting for Horatio to get some relief from his discomfort.

After a while, she asked, "Horatio, what does it mean to you, to say 'I love you'," she asked.

"You want to talk about the nature of love, now?" he asked. "I don't know if I'm up to it!"

"I know you, I know you have thought about it," she responded. "What comes first to your mind?"

"I don't say it often," he started. "Probably not often enough. But it used to mean that I wanted what was best for that person. Sometimes, that has meant not saying it at all." He thought back to those two hard years, after Ray had disappeared, and he and Yelena had both thought him dead. He was never able to cross that line with Yelena, and in retrospect, that had been a good thing, since Raymond had still been alive. "And the women I have known, before you, proved either to be untrustworthy", here he thought of Julia and Rebecca, "or unavailable, except for Rachel. Rachel and I only dated a couple of times, before Resden killed her. I was still recovering from that, when you made me that first dinner."

"You say 'it used to mean'. What does it mean, now?" she asked.

"I will always want what's best for you," he replied. "I would give my life for you, if I thought it would save you." He reached up and rubbed at the ice pack on his chest. "But now there is a bit of selfishness in my love, if that's possible. I need you like I need air, or for my heart to keep beating. You brought a part of my soul back to life, that had frozen over, mostly because of the disappointments I'd suffered. I had become very bitter, and was descending into a darkness that I don't like to contemplate now."

Marisol was silent and still. She took a deep breath and let it out. "Wow, I guess I did ask. But that's terrifying, in a way. I feel like I'm holding your heart in my hands," she said slowly. "You took a big risk, dating a girl you knew might be dying of cancer."

"I was disappointed, the day after our first date, when Eric told me how sick you were. I told him I could live with it," he said. "At the time, it was true, but I did feel a twinge of fear, that I might fall in love with you, only to have you leave me too soon. In the past year you have given me what I've wanted my whole life; a sense of family, and of completeness that has always eluded me."

"You know, don't you, that you will always be a part of my family," she told him. "Eric has thought of you as a brother, for a long time, similar to the way that soldiers do. But now, it's even deeper than that. And Papi thinks very highly of you, and now, so does Mami."

"Ah, Carmen is thawing a bit, isn't she," he smiled. "And I love your family, I enjoy the times we spend with them. I never had those kinds of celebrations when I was growing up. I look forward to bringing our baby to your mother's house for family parties and holidays." He gently rubbed her tummy, and was rewarded with a soft thump. "Does she ever stop?"

"She has been active today, hasn't she," said Marisol. "Poor thing, it must be getting snug in there." She rested her hand over Horatio's and moved it around to where the baby was apparently pushing against the walls of her prison with her feet.

"That's amazing," he marveled. "It doesn't hurt?"

"Well if she catches a rib, or starts to dance on my bladder it can get uncomfortable," Marisol answered. "But generally, no, it doesn't bother me."

"Thank you, Marisol, for having our baby," he said, tightening his arm around her, and ignoring the twinge of pain across his chest.

"Thank you, for giving her to me," replied Marisol. "I love you, Horatio, and I love the life we're building together."

"And what does that mean to you?" he asked.

"Turnabout is fair play, hmm?" she responded. She paused, considering her answer. "Well, like you, I have always believed that when you truly love, you want what's best for the person you love. Right away, from that first dinner, I saw how weary and dark you were feeling."

"And yet, you kept going out with me?" he teased.

"You kept asking," she saucily replied. "And I could see the real man, underneath the pain. I wanted to know him better. When you relax you smile more easily, you laugh, you tease. I love bringing you to that place. And despite how you felt yourself, you were always positive, always affirming of my life. The day we were married, Eric was worried. He felt that I didn't know you well enough and I told him that the man he sees at work wasn't the same as the man who loves me. Now those disparate sides of you are coming together, still wise, still knowing the failings of the people of around you. But I think you are letting the joyful side of your nature, the part of you that was made to love and care for others, out a little more openly. And that continually makes me want to be a better person, so I guess there is a little selfishness in my love, too."

"How in the world do you see that as selfish?" he asked, shocked.

"Because loving you, and making your burden lighter, put real purpose into my life, and made me want to live, not just not die," she answered him.

That brought a long silence, so she glanced up at his face. His eyes were closed, and his lashes were wet. Wisely, she said nothing, just snuggled back into his side. They lay there a long time, and eventually nodded off.

A nurse came in twice during the night, and woke Horatio both times, and asked him a string of inane questions. She made him get up and walk, which annoyed him no end.

"I know it's a pain, literally, Mr. Caine," said the 5 a.m. nurse. "But first, we need to check that there isn't any real damage or swelling to your brain, and second, if you stay in one position too long, that bruised chest will seem immobilizing when you first try to move. At breakfast we're going to change you over to an oral medication, so you should try to eat. This one tends to be a bit hard on the stomach."

Horatio sighed, he knew she was doing her job, and genuinely wanted to help him. "Yes, ma'am, and thank you," he said.

Eric and Aaron both showed up after breakfast. Eric had brought his sunglasses, saying, "You're going to want these!" Then he brought them up to speed on the case. As they had expected, a small consortium of inmates had conspired to get even with Horatio by attacking him and his family. Thomas and his compatriot had been released from prison the previous week, and promised a fat pay-off if they could succeed in taking Horatio out.

Frank had seen a judge, late in the afternoon, and requested that the inmates in on the conspiracy be placed in separate housing. So, they had broken up the 'gang' in the prison, and shuffled the inmates to different buildings, and in two cases, to different jails. The dust on the balaclavas had proven to be a pollen from a local flower, that only grew in a few spots in the Everglades. They were going to run down the hide-out that day.

Then Frank had gone out into the streets the previous night, to get a sense of what the criminal element in Miami was saying about Horatio. His CI's told him that everyone knew what had happened to Horatio and Marisol, and to their attackers. No one new was going to take that risk. Horatio's aim was too deadly.

Horatio huffed, he didn't think he could even lift a gun today. The nurse had been correct, his chest ached fiercely. Now instead of ice, they were trying gentle heat, and recommended he do the same at home. At least his headache had receded to what he considered a normal level.

Since Aaron was on a mandatory leave of absence, normal for an officer involved shooting, Captain Hernandez had asked him to run guard duty for Horatio and Marisol until Horatio was cleared for duty. Patrols in the neighborhood would be stepped up, and there would be round the clock surveillance on the Caine home. Horatio and Marisol grimaced at this, but accepted it.

"H, Aaron, I think you are going to want to find a different rout out of the hospital," began Eric. "There is quite a crowd of reporters out front." Horatio pinched the bridge of his nose. He hated talking to the press. But he would rather deal with them here, than at the house.

"No, Eric, we'll go right through them," insisted Horatio. "Jessup, could you bring the car around to the front door?"

Horatio and Marisol were both wheeled to the hospital foyer, but then Horatio insisted on rising from his wheelchair, out of sight of the cameras and walking unassisted to the door. Then he turned and helped Marisol up, and when she was at his side, he donned his sunglasses, and stepped out into the light. He stopped, and squinted. He forced himself to approach the line of yelling reporters, begging for a comment. He raised a hand, asking for silence, and uncharacteristically the crowd fell quiet.

"My wife and I are fine, and we're returning to our home. Those that attacked us, and helped in the planning are either dead or already in jail. I ask that you respect our privacy at this time. No further comment," and with that, he turned, and walked with Marisol toward the SUV, which now approached them. They settled into the back of the car and Horatio asked Jessup to take them home. He was grateful for the dark interior of the car. Those few seconds in the sun had made his head pound.

Marisol stroked his hand, but was quiet. She could tell he was hurting. She leaned forward, and asked Aaron to take the turns slowly.

Horatio was given the opportunity to discover what inactivity felt like. It was incredibly boring. He learned to really value his sense of sight. He hadn't realized how much he used it, until he wasn't allowed to do anything with it. He couldn't read, or study, or go to the lab and examine evidence. With a baby coming there were certainly things to do around the house, but he wasn't allowed to exert himself much. And if he tried to, the pounding headache and a hovering wife quickly brought that effort to a halt. So, he spent a lot of time in thought. He thought about how his life had changed, and was about to change further. He fretted about what kind of father he would be. He suspected he would be a tad overprotective!

Five days later he was sleeping soundly when he was jostled awake by Marisol.

"Horatio, wake up, it's time," she whispered in his ear.

Instantly he snapped awake. Marisol was sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing her belly. She had a strange look on her face, a mixture of excitement, anticipation and dread. He sat up and folded her in his arms.

"How far apart are they?" he asked, referring to her contractions. She had been having stronger, but very irregularly spaced contractions all the previous day.

"About 7 minutes," she answered. "And they're getting stronger."

"Good thing the doctor cleared me yesterday!" he said. "Good timing, little one." He gave her belly a pat and got out of bed. He dressed in the clothes he had laid out and went to the front door. He flicked the porch light a time or two, to let the police unit out front know they leaving.

The officer came to the door and asked, "What do you need, LT?"

"I'm taking Mrs. Caine to the hospital," he answered. "Can you watch the house till your shift ends? I have family coming in the morning, and they'll take over from there. Yours was the last shift of protective duty anyway." Horatio hadn't yet been cleared for duty, but as soon as the doctor had cleared him to drive, the day before, he had gone to the gun range and requalified. It hadn't been easy, his chest muscles protested the entire time, and he still wasn't as accurate as he had been. But he was accurate enough.

"Sure thing, Lieutenant Caine, and tell Mrs. Caine, we're all rooting for her," said the Officer.

"Thank you," responded Horatio. He shut and bolted the front door, and took Marisol to the SUV in the garage. As he drove he called Carmen and Pavel, and told them they were on their way to the hospital.

Fortunately, Marisol's labor and delivery were practically textbook normal. There was the expected amount of pain and work. There was only the briefest moment, when she felt like giving up, and told Horatio that she couldn't do this. He squeezed her hand, and looked at sweaty, tear stained face.

"Marisol, sweetheart, look at me," he urged. Wearily she opened her eyes, and looked into his blue ones. "I know this is hard, and it hurts, but you have been amazing, and you only have a little way to go. That little baby wants to be in your arms. I can't wait to meet her, please, Marisol, try again, for us?"

The nurse and doctor nodded approvingly. He had taken just the right tone, and appealed to her better nature. Marisol nodded, and gathered her strength. The next contraction washed over her. She leaned forward and bore down. Now she began to make real progress and in a few moments the baby slipped out. Antonia Caine took her first breath, and let out a screech of outrage. There was nothing wrong with her lungs. The doctor examined her briefly, then laid the little girl on Marisol's belly, and clamped the cord. She handed the scissors to Horatio, and he cut through the cord between the clamps. Marisol began to caress the baby, now covered with a warm blanket. The nurse took her and went to the scale, Horatio in tow. She weighed and measured the now protesting baby, but the nurse was quick and efficient. She wrapped up the baby and laid her Horatio's arms.

Horatio experienced a moment so profound it felt transcendent. He looked down into the face of his newborn daughter and felt a love so deep wash over him he shook. Antonia, now warm and secure, opened her newborn blue eyes. He just stood and stared at her for several minutes, while the doctor finished up with Marisol. The baby gazed up at Horatio, a look of utter absorption on her tiny face. Horatio recalled William Wordsworth's words, "But trailing clouds of glory do we come from God."

"Antonia, Antonia," he gently called. They had agreed on the name, as soon as they had found out the baby was to be a girl. He turned toward Marisol and taking the few steps back to the bed, he handed the baby to her mother. He bent down and kissed Marisol's forehead and then Antonia's. "Thank you, Marisol," he whispered. He sat next to the head of the bed and watched Marisol become acquainted with their daughter. She folded back the blanket and marveled at her tiny, perfect little hands, and felt the downy softness of her face.

"Horatio, she's so beautiful, so perfect," marveled Marisol.

The doctor watched this little byplay. She knew Marisol's history, of course, and a little of Horatio's. She was elated for them.

"Horatio, you might want to let the folks in the waiting room know," the doctor suggested.

Horatio looked up, "Yes, Doctor, and thank you, ma'am," he said. He kissed Marisol and went out into the hall.

Carmen was pacing in the waiting room, while Pavel flipped through a magazine, without seeing the words or pictures. It was passed noon, there should be word soon. Suddenly, Horatio came through the door.

Carmen flew to him, and noticed that his face was alight. "Is she alright? Is the baby here?" she asked.

Horatio gathered her up and hugged her, saying, "Yes, the baby is here, and they're both fine, come and see," he laughed.

Pavel was delighted to see this euphoric side of Horatio. He was seldom demonstrative. Pavel stood, and clapped Horatio on the back. "Congratulations, Horatio!" he said. Horatio let go of Carmen with his right hand, and shook Pavel's. "Come, see them," he urged. He pulled them from the waiting area, down the hall, and into Marisol's room.


End file.
